This may sound strange coming from a liberal Democrat, but it’s hard for me to muster much sympathy for many of the area’s homeless.

The subject came up last week when my colleague Mike McHugh detailed a recent conversation he had with a homeless woman panhandling for money near the Yopp Road Walmart.

Mike spelled out the real-life drama in his Sunday column. The gist is this: The woman’s husband is in jail and she can’t afford to bail him out. She is living in the woods with others while her children live with extended family elsewhere.

While I am not completely apathetic to her plight, I can’t help but agree with Mike that a series of bad decisions landed the woman in her predicament. Such is the case with many of the homeless in our area. Mike and I have interviewed dozens of men and women who live “out of doors,” as many of them refer to themselves. Most have been in their current state for years, some even decades. So we’re not talking about folks who hit a recent rough spot due to the recession; most of these people are the fringe element who don't care to live civilized.

I’m confounded by their acceptance to living in the woods.

After years of gainful employment at the bacon plant in Holly Ridge, I lost my job along with 467 good people. The successful facility, which had been in operation for half a century, was bought by a larger company and closed to eliminate competition.

That was 2002. With so many folks flooding the Jacksonville job market, I couldn’t find adequate employment. Things were beginning to look bleak. Michelle and I sold our wedding rings and all her jewelry. (We’ve never been able to replace any of it, but she has never complained once in 10 years).

We were approaching the drop off point. I know what it’s like to stare into the abyss.

I realize some people have no safety line tethered as they climb the jagged cliffs of life. Some rely on religion. Some depend on the government. Some slip and fall into the bottle or the numbness that follows a needle prick.

I fell back into the open arms of family. Just as we were being forced out of our rented mobile home, my oldest brother offered to let me live with him in Louisiana. I packed everything that could fit into our minivan; the rest was sold or left behind. Me, my wife and our kids then moved into my brother’s dining room.

By official standards, my family was homeless. There were many times during those dark days that my kids wouldn’t have eaten if it were not for food stamps.

But I didn’t give up. I found work — albeit low-paying jobs at first — and used federal grants and loans to go to college. Within a few short months I had moved my family into our own rental home.

I worked sometimes 12 hours a day on top of a full course load studying professional writing, determined to never subject my family to a situation like that again.

I clawed my way out of a deep hole, but didn’t do it alone. My parents, siblings, a church or two, my in-laws and yes, the government, helped.

There are — or damn well should be — long leaps between losing a job, being evicted and living in the woods.

In the last five years on this job, I’ve gotten to know many of the homeless people in our area. They all share certain similarities. Mike outlined those common traits in his column: substance abuse, dysfunctional home life and the inability to maintain employment. And there are those with mental conditions who cannot help how they end up.

I certainly don’t think I’m better than anyone in such a predicament. And children cannot help what their parents do. The homeless woman Mike described in his column has four children and one on the way. They should be the real focus here.

I agree with Mike that personal choices or prior decisions lead to homelessness, not businesses or governments. But I used government assistance to better myself and improve my ability to provide for my family. I believe many other people have as well.

There are those who choose to abuse the system. There are always people who take advantage of someone’s good graces. But I don’t agree with tossing the baby out with the bath water.

Some people — especially children — need help. Period.

When I write these columns I usually listen to music for inspiration. Springsteen was blasting in my headphones as I typed out these final few paragraphs. He belted out bitingly, “wherever this flag is flown we take care of our own.” We know that's not always the case.

While I have to admit I have little sympathy for folks who give up and live in the woods; I’m not ready to give up on their kids. None of us should be.

Contact Daily News Senior Reporter Lindell Kay at 910-219-8455 or lindell.kay@jdnews.com. Follow him on Twitter and friend him on Facebook @ 1lindell.